Flying Wallendas, my ass! I've got a flying Eddie

Tonight as I read Chas a goodnight story, Eddie got up and wandered. I heard him start to climb up on his changing table and I called for Steph. She didn't hear. But I didn't think he could get into too much trouble -- probably just trying to throw a tissue in the garbage can that used to be up there to be out of their reach and is now just up there out of habit. Anyway, I'm not too worried, just reading the adventures of Courderoy the stuffed bear when all of a sudden Eddie comes flying over the back of the chair and onto my shoulder. Mind you there are feet, not inches, between the back of the rocking chair and the changing table. I called for Steph a bit louder and with a voice that betrayed the delayed panic of the moment and she came running. At first she didn't believe me that he had done such a thing. Then she wanted to high five him. Then she had him do it again so she could see. He was tentative, thinking he was in trouble. But once he saw that he wasn't, he repeated the trick a couple of times. In total, the completely wrong message to be sending him about this reckless behavior but I can't control her. And I shudder to think of what he'll be trying as an older boy and teenager. I need a drink.